Broadfields
by madrigals
Summary: I let my heart break in the broadfields. It's the look between the fences; my hand unto the bridge. Jake/OFC, AU season one
1. Chapter 1

**CHAPTER ONE**

**September 27, 2006**

It was a crisp, cool morning from where she stood. She liked mornings like these; they always felt full of promise and hope. Quite unlike what she had left in Amman. After so many hours holed up on an airplane, this was a pleasant thing to arrive to. She inhaled the fresh air with deep, happy gasps, adjusting the strap of her carry-on over her shoulder as she surveyed the busy scenery of Denver International Airport. She was nearly home, and that was enough to thrill her.

"Good morning, Mara."

That is, until she heard his voice.

Mara stopped in her tracks, turning slowly on her heel. A vaguely familiar 1969 Plymouth Roadrunner sat in her line of sight. Leaning against the driver's side, hands on the roof and eyes peering over the top, was Jake Green.

Mara immediately filled with a slow-burning annoyance.

"So the prodigal son returns," she began, staring at Jake with a disbelieving expression, "and they make _me_ ride with him? Is this a joke?"

"What, no hello? No nice to see you?"

"I've seen enough of you."

Jake blinked. He stepped around the car, grabbed the two large suitcases she had sat nearby, and tossed them into the backseat. "Get in the car, Mara."

"I'm not going anywhere with you!"

_"Get in the car!"_

It was her only choice, but that didn't mean she had to like it. "I'm going to kill April," Mara grumbled under her breath and slid into the passenger's seat. She rested her carry-on at her feet, her purse in her lap, and buckled her seatbelt as Jake got behind the wheel. They pulled away from the curb, and set off.

For the first hour of their trip, nothing was said. Driving into Kansas would take over three and a half hours, and the easiest way for Mara to cope with such a long ride was to say nothing at all. Jake was more than happy to oblige. It wasn't until they began to approach the Colorado-Kansas border that any new acknowledgment was made; specifically, when Mara straightened in her seat and began to dig through her purse in search of something. Jake, distracted by her sudden movement, shifted between watching her and keeping an eye on the road.

"What are you doing?"

She didn't respond, but pulled out a penny, watching it glint in the newfound sunlight. Suddenly, Jake knew immediately. He laughed.

"Don't tell me you still do that."

Mara shot him a glare, rolling down the passenger's side window. A sign that read _Welcome to Kansas!_, was fast approaching. "And I suppose you still have no morals, no beliefs of your own," she retorted. Mara balled her hand up into a fist, the coin buried in the middle, and took a deep breath before tossing the penny out the window, just as they rolled over the state line.

"You don't have morals, Mara. You have superstitions."

"That presumes I'm not concerned with the goodness or badness of human character," Mara replied, digging once more through her purse and producing a half-empty pack of Marlboro Menthol Lights. She plucked out a stick and rested it between her lips, mumbling around her mouthful as she lit up, "I am."

"Do you _have_ to smoke in my car?"

Mara dropped her lighter into her purse, propped her feet up on the dashboard, and pulled the cigarette from her mouth, blowing a defiant puff of smoke in Jake's direction. His expression turned into one of disdain. She fiddled with the cigarette between her fingers, gazing out the window at the passing scenery. She said absently, "What do you care? They don't drive Roadrunners in Iraq."

"I'm done with Iraq," Jake stated. Mara murmured a sound of disbelief, and he glanced over at her, remarking, "Just like you're done with Jordan."

"I never said I was done with Jordan."

"You must be, if you're coming back to Jericho."

"Just like the prodigal son?"

Jake rolled his eyes. "I'm back in San Diego by morning."

"Of course you are."

That was the funny thing about their relationship: Mara knew more about where Jake had been for the past five years than anyone back home. Mara, a licensed nurse practitioner, had just spent the past couple of years working as a Peace Corps Medical Officer in Amman, Jordan. It had not been unusual for Jake, and the men he worked with, to drive over the al-Karama border into Jordan for some time out of the war zone. One chance encounter in a local shopping district, and his cover was screwed. Boundaries were respected, but tiptoed upon.

He glanced at her. "Do you think of me as a liar?"

"I believe you're a very good one."

"And what does April think of the fact you slept with her brother-in-law?"

Mara grew deathly silent. She took a drag off her cigarette, tipped the ashes out the open window, and said nothing. "See," Jake pointed out, "you're just as bad as me."

Yet, in her opinion, she was nothing like him. The simple fact that a night in Amman had produced a moment of weakness meant nothing. (That evening, and its subsequent trysts, was a fact she had never admitted to anyone, not even her older sister.) She didn't lie like him. She wasn't constantly getting into trouble. She was, in her opinion, never in over her head. Mara refused to acknowledge his words, but that didn't mean she agreed. Jake glanced in her direction, but didn't push any further.

They were rolling through New Bern now. Each passing sight was more familiar than the last. In an effort to fill the void, Jake clicked on the radio, switching through the dial to a news station. Mara snorted at the result, tipping some more ash out the window. She couldn't remember the last time she had listened to an American newscast. After spending so much time in the Middle East, she had grown a bit biased against her home country's delivery of news — she felt the truth was glossed over more often than not. Listening to it then, she felt truly home.

_ "Tension is high on Capitol Hill, as an emergency session of Congress prepares to hear the president address the issue of global violence. Recent attacks have pushed this administration to take extreme action, raising more fears than alleviating. With global tension rising, the president is taking a risky step by confronting what some political observers —"_

They stopped by the Richmond farm on their way into town, to pick up a pie for Jake's mother. Pulling up next to the roadside stand, Mara had to brace herself for her first real interaction with people back home. From the initial expression on Jake's face, she knew he was having the same feeling — that ambivalent, awkward churning in the gut one experiences when seeing someone beloved for the first time in years. Mara got out of the car, flicked her cigarette onto the ground, stamping out the butt and following a few steps behind Jake as they were met with an ecstatic Stanley Richmond.

"I can't believe it!" Stanley exclaimed, "Jake Green!"

They embraced, and that was when Stanley noticed Mara, hovering a few steps behind. His eyes lit up. "Mara-bean!"

She couldn't help but chuckle as he swept her into a bone-crushing hug. She'd always had a close relationship with Stanley; he was much like an older brother to her. Other than her sister, he was perhaps one of the few people from Jericho she had kept in touch with. "Good to see you too, Stanley," she smiled.

"When'd you get back to town?" Stanley directed this question to Jake, upon releasing Mara from his grasp.

"Just now."

But Stanley was already off on another tangent. He looked at Jake and Mara with confused, nearly suspicious eyes. "Wait, why are you two here together?"

Mara immediately rolled her eyes, then diverted them off in the direction of farmland. "He gave me a ride into town from Denver."

"Why didn't you call me? I would have —"

"You can thank April for that."

Jake interrupted before the topic of conversation could get any worse. "Is that Bonnie?"

Mara glanced in the direction he was pointing. Sure enough, Bonnie was sitting nearby. While Jake merely signed to her with surprise, _You grew up!_, Mara side-stepped around Stanley and went to embrace his sister. They chatted in fluent sign language as the men talked on their own. Suddenly, just as soon as they had arrived, they were preparing to leave; Stanley threw something in their direction to catch Bonnie's attention, and demanded a strawberry rhubarb pie. Not long after, Mara found herself slipping back into the passenger's seat of Jake's car with a pink box resting on her lap. They took off once again.

"It's weird, huh?" Jake said as he drove.

"What?"

"Seeing people again."

"Not all of us feel the same desperation to get away as you do."

"I never said anything about getting away."

The look they exchanged was meaningful. Like each knew something the other one didn't. "I have no problem seeing old faces again, Jake," she said, shifting her line of vision out the window. They were coming up into town now, and all the familiar sights were entering their view. "I actually have good memories here. It's a shock, I know."

"Do you believe in redemption?" Jake asked suddenly.

Mara turned and gave him a strange look. She shook her head and looked back out the window. "Why don't we save time, and you just tell me what I believe?"

Entering downtown Jericho brought with it words that Mara did not expect to hear, and when he said them it felt as if she had been hit by a speeding train. "Probably not much of anything," he said, "except in getting through the day."

The thing she hated most was that he was right.

"Drop me off at the medical center," was all she said. The building wasn't all that far away, and she even opened her car door while the vehicle was in motion so that he would _have_ to stop. She looped her purse and her carry-on over her shoulder, hopped out (leaving the pink box behind on the seat), and reached into the backseat for her suitcases.

"Mara —"

"See you in another five years," she replied sarcastically, shutting the door and wheeling the luggage up and over the curb. Jake was left to sit and watch from the driver's seat as she hurried toward the entrance to the medical center, dragging her belongings with her, looking as if she wanted anything but time on her side.

* * *

She found April at the nurses' station.

"Just for the record," Mara began as she swept up to the counter, without even a hug or hello in greeting, "I hate you with the passion of thousand fiery suns."

Her older sister smiled wryly as she scribbled some orders into a chart; she did not glance up. "Oh, hey! Have a nice trip?"

With suitcases sitting at her feet, Mara adjusted the straps of her bags around her shoulder and leaned against the counter. "Do you have a secret hatred for me that I need to know about? Because really, Ape," she said, using her childhood nickname for April, "my sanity can't take much more of this."

April rolled her eyes, set the chart down with a stack of others, and left the counter, which Mara took as her cue to gather her things and hurry after. "Mom said…" April referred to her mother-in-law, Gail Green, who had become much like a surrogate mother in the absence of their own. "…Mom said he was coming for a visit, it was just a coincidence, that's all. He happened to be able to give you a ride into town. There was no spite or malice involved."

They dropped her things off in April's office, and were off just as quickly. Mara sighed melodramatically, following her fast-moving sister down the hallways of Jericho's medical center. "You make my life really, _really_ difficult."

April stopped suddenly, nearly causing Mara to bump into her. They had found central supply. April stepped into what was basically an oversized closet, pulled out a pair of nurses' scrubs in her sister's size, and shoved them into Mara's arms. "I _just_ got home, and you choose to put me to work now," Mara stated dryly.

"Look, you're a nurse practitioner. Go practice."

Mara rolled her eyes playfully, and began to venture off toward a nearby restroom to change, but stopped suddenly when April called after her,

"I'll come grab you later. We're having dinner at Gail and Johnston's tonight."

She turned around to smile her acknowledgment, and it was then she noticed something off about her older sister. A light that was missing from her eyes. Mara stepped forward, cradling the scrubs in one arm as she reached out to touch April's shoulder with the other hand. "Hey, everything okay?"

April said nothing for a moment, but then put on a brave smile and nodded. She said, "Yeah, everything's great. Eric can't wait to see you."

Mara nodded, as if she weren't quite certain of April's insistence. "Okay," she replied, a bit uncertainly. "I'll just grab a chart and jump in."

For a moment, her sister didn't respond. Then she said softly,

"I'm glad you're finally home, Mara."

All Mara could do was reach out and embrace her sister.

* * *

It started with the lights flickering.

No one had expected the power to fail, least of all Mara. She had been administering medication to a patient when it happened; a sudden twitching in the fluorescent lights that led to complete darkness. It took a full minute before the backup generator kicked in, and when it did, everyone was puzzled.

It didn't take long for word to travel: an explosion in the west, probably Denver. Mara wouldn't have believed it were real had she not witnessed the plume through a window. It took common sense to discern the source: only one thing caused an explosion of that magnitude. She wanted to believe the people of Denver were really safe, but gut instinct forced her to fear the worst.

A funny thing happens when the world changes: you run on auto-pilot. Trivial things begin to matter less, and you find yourself working only for survival. This is what Mara discovered that day in September.

Chaos reigned for hours. The medical center took in patients who had become overwhelmed by the panic of their neighbors — winding up stampeded, dehydrated, bruised and battered. Mara herself was overwhelmed by the sheer exhaustion of constant movement, lack of food, sheer lack of knowledge. What was happening? Did anyone know anything? Constant checks with the others on staff proved fruitless: had any new information become available, Mayor Green would have provided it to them. And she knew that much. Johnston was reliable.

News trickled in of rioting out by the gas station. Mara braced herself for the worst, but instead of receiving beaten and bloody consumers, paramedics came in with little Stacy Clemons... and a very crude cricothyroidotomy?

Mara was flabbergasted. She followed alongside the volunteer paramedics (who also tended to serve as firefighters) as they wheeled the little girl in on a gurney. She was very pale, and seemed to be breathing alright, despite the fact that a gathering of straws were sticking out of a slit in her neck. "Hi Stacy, hi sweetie," Mara cooed in greeting. She had known Stacy since she was an infant.

"What happened?" Her question was posed to Brian, one of the paramedics: someone she just happened to have attended high school with. That was Jericho in a nutshell: everywhere she turned, she found someone she knew.

Brian shook his head in disbelief. "School bus hit a deer. When it stopped, she had her chin against the seat in front of her. Driver didn't make it, but Jake happened to stumble upon a couple of kids looking for help. He gave her the trach."

"Wait — Jake _Green_?"

Mara pointed them into an empty exam room, looking more than shocked as Stacy's parents came hurrying up. "The one and only!" Brian called over his shoulder, as Mara tried to save face and greet the child's parents in a soothing manner. She did not respond any more to Brian's revelation, even when he did a one-eighty and also called to her, "Oh, hey, welcome back!"

Being a nurse practitioner, Mara had more leverage than the average nurse. She was able to perform exams, order tests, write prescriptions, and generally fill more of the void that's felt in a small facility such as the Jericho medical center. Having such advanced training enabled her to step into doctor-like shoes, which was especially helpful during such a chaotic evening. She used these skills to replace Stacy's crude trach with safer, sanitary equipment and complete her tracheotomy; she used them to order x-ray films to check the placement of the tube, and to once again reassure the Clemons family that yes, their daughter would be fine.

But then Gail flagged her down, and pulled her over to an exam room. Pleasantries were brief, for Gail seemed agitated. "Jake, his leg's hurt pretty bad," she said, motioning to the doorway. Mara looked inside and for the first time, noticed Jake laying on a hospital gurney, plainly looking in pain. "Can you—?"

Saying no to Gail Green wasn't an option.

"Of course," Mara assured her, biting the bullet and stepping inside the room. Gail hurried off, presumably to track down her husband. She stood just inside the doorjamb, an eyebrow raised as Jake warily looked her over. "Thought you'd be off to San Diego by now."

"You think a lot of things."

If you were to ask Mara, she would vehemently deny relief at knowing Jake Green was safe and sound in Jericho. Their enmity was town legend, but the fact of the matter was that at the end of the day, Jake was the sibling of her brother-in-law, and the well-being of family would always be a top priority for Mara. If something were to happen to Jake, she knew Eric would feel devastation.

At least, that's what she believed.

Instead of retorting some equally thought-out reply, she stepped forward and motioned for him to reveal his leg. It was badly wounded, gashed in such a way that someone who had trouble stomaching gore would have had difficulty remaining by the bedside. "What'd you do, stick your leg in a wood chipper?"

"Something like that."

For a moment, Mara was silent, gently cleaning the wound and mostly ignoring his quiet hisses at the pain of antiseptic. Then, softly, she said, "That was really good of you... what you did."

He fixed her with an unwavering gaze. "You think I wouldn't have done it?"

"I think a lot of things."

Silence. She proceeded to irrigate the wound and prepare for sutures, injecting anesthetic around the area and setting up tools. But before she started, she faltered, a slight tremble to her hand as she refused to meet his eye. Gently, she said, "Tell me we're gonna be okay, Jake."

He was quiet, still watching her. They knew the weight of the day, knew that any unpleasantness had to be set aside. Knew that, for now, they were all each other had. And so, when he responded, it was out of understanding. He reached out and shamelessly touched her face, gently cradling her cheek in his strong, capable hand, feeling the soft skin beneath his fingertips.

"We're gonna be okay."


	2. Chapter 2

**CHAPTER 2**

**September 28, 2006**

It was only common sense what would happen next.

Mara had a sleepless night, and no one could blame her. Not once did she leave the confines of the medical center, on her feet through the evening as she checked on patients. The entire staff was following mass disaster protocol, and it showed: Mara's scrubs were dirty with blood, the hair that fell out of her messy chignon sticking to the nape of her neck with sweat. She was exhausted, hungry, and in need of a cigarette. The last thing she wanted to hear was that there had been other explosions, in other cities across the country — not just Denver. She needed hope. And, unfortunately, hope was lacking.

These were the things she considered as the sun rose, producing natural light to replace the candles and rare generators the town had been using. But it wasn't a bright and sunny day. The sky was grey and ugly, clouded with black in the distance. She knew what it meant even before Jake Green came storming into the clinic, a mission in his eyes.

"Where's April?" Jake demanded, sweeping past her harried form without much acknowledgment. Mara gaped, and instead of producing a fruitful answer, followed him with an air of astonishment.

She watched him brush past his mother, to whom he posed the same question, and then burst in on April and her patient — Heather, who required a walking cast. The need was obvious: a fallout shelter.

But convincing the townspeople was a different story.

From the word 'go', Mara and the staff of Jericho's medical center went into action. They prepared the clinic for evacuation, and the initial plan had been to set up shop in a shelter below ground. But the second she saw April hurry upstairs with a worried look on her face, Mara knew that the clinic's shelter was out of the question. She was sorting through all the possibilities in her head when Jake pulled her down the hall and into a supply closet.

"The shelter downstairs is no good," Jake told her immediately, without any fanfare. Mara didn't react. She was still too busy looking at him as if he was crazy.

"Well, we'll have to go to the one at town hall," Mara said after a moment.

"Can't fit everyone."

Mara gritted her teeth. "_Make_ it fit everyone, Jake. We have too many criticals."

"And do what with all the people who don't have basements?"

"Why are you telling me this, Jake? What are you expecting me to say?"

"Because you're probably the only other person in town who's been prepared for something like this."

"No one can _prepare_ for _this_, Jake."

"The Peace Corps has a plan for disaster mitigation, doesn't it?"

Mara was getting annoyed. Her eyes narrowed, and she didn't like the tactic he chose. She didn't necessarily feel like she needed to be shoved into a position of authority, which is exactly what it felt like Jake was trying to do. "I don't have any more training than you."

"Exactly."

She rolled her eyes, and went to shove past him toward the door. "I don't have time for you right now."

"Mara, that's exactly it," Jake snapped, and her hand froze on the doorknob. "_None_ of us have time for _any_ of this. I need your help."

"I'll refrain from focusing on the fact that you, of all people, need my help."

"Mara —"

She'd heard that tone of voice before. He looked sorely tempted to sock her when she turned to look at him, and Mara almost found herself wishing he'd do it.

But she caved.

"If you can't fix up the shelter downstairs… the salt mine, maybe."

It had a ventilation system, and water. If there were no other options, it was their best chance. Jake's eyes glinted with understanding. "We'd need to seal the entrance."

"Jake, don't even…"

But he'd taken off before she could say another word. Mara found herself left behind in the supply closet, thunderstruck as Jake ran off on another mission.

There had been people at the local church all night, holding a prayer vigil. Mara suddenly found herself wondering if she would have been better off joining them. Talking to God, or whatever higher power there might potentially be, might have alleviated the stress of whatever situation she was about to get herself into.

* * *

So it had been settled. The town hall shelter had been packed, and all remaining were sent over to the salt mines. Mara found herself hanging out the door of a school bus while Jake and April argued with Gray Anderson and Eric Green.

"Okay, we can take ten, " Eric finally relented, before giving his wife a pointed look. "And I've saved a spot for you."

"Alright, the ten most critical, fast. Gray! The salt mine. How many people will it hold?"

"Well, as many as you want, but I don't think —"

"It has a ventilation system, right?"

"Yeah, and water…"

"Alright. It's the best option we have right now. Alright?"

Mara sidled cautiously out of the bus to join the discussion, just as Gail showed up. "Mom!" said Jake, not looking too thrilled at the interruption.

"Have you seen your father? He told me he was going to the church."

"Well, Gail…" Gray halted, "… the people from the church got back twenty minutes ago."

Gail's eyes widened, and she looked to her son. "Eric!"

"Mom," Eric said, "we'll find Dad. Jake, take your people to the mine. Leave us ten."

Mara went to speak, but got interrupted by Shep Cale. "I'll go with you, Jake. After twenty-seven years, nobody knows that mine the way I do. Guess you can fit eleven people now."

And then Gray stepped in. "Yeah, make it twelve. It's my place, I should be there."

"Guys…" Mara began.

"Well, let's go," Jake said, clearly not giving any priority to what Mara had to say. She caught him just before getting back on the bus.

And evidently, April noticed. "Just what do you think you're doing, Mara?" She called with some anxiety, and Mara only gave her the briefest of glances through the window. Her eyes turned to Jake's.

"I'm going down there too."

"No, you're not." And Jake seemed firmly convinced that was the case. "You're staying here, with your sister. With your family."

"Look," Mara snapped, "_you_ were the one who started talking about disaster mitigation. I'm not going to argue this with you. If you're going to shove all these people into a mine and blow up their exit, I'm going down there with them." Her gaze shifted for eavesdroppers before her voice lowered to a hiss. "You want to bet how quickly these people start to riot once they're down there? What if the vents fail? What if something happens? End of discussion. I'm going."

For the second time in just a few hours, Jake looked like he was this close to giving her a good throttling. Mara still wished he would, but the miracle lied in the fact that he didn't. As a matter of fact, the tenseness in his expression seemed to diminish, albeit somewhat. He, too, looked around for eavesdroppers, before leaning in and whispering, "If something happens to you…"

"And what about them?"

Mara was nearly expressionless, pursed lips and a slightly furrowed brow being her only defense. She was going to stand her ground, Jake could already see that. That was why he didn't seem to fight too much, unclipping a second walkie talkie that had been hanging from the back pocket of his pants and reluctantly handing it to her.

"Gray's going to be on point down there," he said slowly. "Things will get out of control. You need to keep an eye out."

"Yeah, I got it, Jake."

She walked away before he could say another word.

* * *

"Everyone, keep back. Let's give them some room to work."

Mara kept the crowd at a safe distance while a few of the men rushed to line the mine entrance with explosives. Every now and then, out of the corner of her eye, she could see Jake running around. She watched as Heather hovered close by, asking him questions; as Jake corrected the amount of explosives Shep put in. Jake and Shep were nearly done overseeing the operation when Mara heard her walkie talkie crackle with an incoming transmission.

It was difficult to hear in the cavernous mine, but Mara gave pause, putting the walkie close to her ear and giving Jake a confused look.

_Can you hear me? Is there anyone out there?_

Jake reacted immediately. It was Emily Sullivan, calling for help. She was out at the Richmond farm, and there seemed to be trouble brewing. Men with guns. Mara's heart sunk. They were already trying to outrun the fallout, now this?

"Shep, give me your keys," Jake demanded. He seemed in a panic.

"Jake, it's going to start raining any minute now!"

"Give me your keys! I can make it!"

Shep conceded, and Mara watched as Gray and Jake exchanged words. Gray tossed him a gun. Mara didn't even have time to argue; Jake was on his way out and there were only seconds to herd the crowd further down into the mine, away from the blast site. "Everybody down!" Gray yelled, "further down! Let's go!"

"Make room, everyone," Mara chimed in, herding a group of children towards Heather. "Don't crowd. Go all the way back, make room."

_Almost ready, Jake. Stand by._

She exchanged a look with Gray when it appeared everyone was far enough back. His reaction was immediate, raising the walkie to his mouth and declaring, "Jake? We're all clear."

"Everyone down!" Mara yelled, just as an explosion rocked the mine.

As her lungs filled with dust, and her body hit the floor along with the others, she felt the blast shudder through her. Mara immediately knew the explosion had been too large.

They were in trouble.


	3. Chapter 3

Thank you, reviewers!

* * *

**CHAPTER 3****  
****September 30, 2006**

_Hello?_

A whoosh of static followed her transmission; silence. Mara pressed the button on her walkie talkie over and over, and very nearly threw it against the wall.

_Hello? Does anyone copy?_

But there was no one. They were alone. None of their radios worked, and there was no one to know for certain if the rain stopped or if help was coming. And help was needed.

Mara's eyes traveled upward, to the path the ventilator system took along the ceiling. The system was silent, all hopeful noises ceased after the dust of the explosion settled over the room. The temperature in the mine felt muggy with body heat, and dust particles still floated in the air. She had triaged the entire group for health and possible injuries; physically, everyone was fine, but the coughing and dehydration from the dust exposure was starting to kick in. She worried about everyone's lungs. She worried about the little girl in the corner who was starting to show signs of an asthma attack. She worried about a lot of things.

Mostly she just wondered if Jake would come back for them.

"Savannah, sweetie," Mara cooed as she knelt with the little girl and her mother. She had soaked a cloth in water and given it to the girl to hold over her nose and mouth, in an effort to keep away the dust. Every now and then her mother re-soaked the cloth. "How you doing?"

Savannah was breathing shallowly, the air rasping in and out of her throat. Mara gently placed two fingers on the pulse point in her little wrist, checking her pulse and counting the rate of her respirations. The number had dropped from the last time she'd checked. "Try to breathe slowly, sweetie, I know it's hard," Mara said, glancing to her mother. "You said she's never been diagnosed with asthma?"

The mother shook her head. Mara frowned.

Just then, a commotion erupted over her shoulder, and with her hand still on Savannah, Mara turned to look for the source. Scott Rennie appeared to be having a panic attack. She couldn't blame him. The space was enough to make anyone claustrophobic; but Scott seemed to be taking it a little harder, and inciting a panic was not what anyone wanted.

Heather was trying to help calm him, but Scott's panic was audible and growing. If she had Ativan in her medical kit, Mara would have given it to him; but the medical center had only stocked her bag with the most emergent necessities.

Mara could hear Gray and Shep start to intervene, but the situation was one she could no longer focus on. Savannah was wheezing next to her.

"Okay, sweetheart, try to take a deep breath for me," Mara said, unlooping the stethoscope from around her neck and placing the buds in her ears. She placed the chestpiece and listened to the girl's lungs. They sounded thick with mucus. Mara bit back a swear and went to dig through her bag. She produced an Albuterol inhaler. "Okay, Savannah, let's take some more medicine. Same as before."

But the inhaler wasn't going to help on it's own, Mara knew. The girl needed oxygen, needed a nebulizer treatment. She needed things that Mara didn't have. The best she could do, other than the inhaler, was start an IV and run fluids. "Things are progressing," Mara told the mother, raising her brows in such a way so that she didn't have to elaborate and worry the girl or any eavesdroppers. "I need to start an IV. I'm going to give her some fluids and some steroids."

"Whatever you need to do," Savannah's mother nodded anxiously, but she was quickly interrupted by the breathless, worried attempts at a response from her little girl. Apparently Savannah didn't like the sound of what was about to happen.

"No — no shot —"

"Savannah, sweetie, I promise you, it's just going to be one little prick," Mara soothed, taking the girl's hand. "And then you won't feel anything else. And it's going to make you feel a lot better. I promise. Can you be brave for me?"

The girl's nod came all too reluctantly, mixed with wheezes and hoarse rasps. Mara squeezed her hand and smiled, immediately taking out the necessary items from her bag. She prepared an IV in the girl's arm, hitting the vein on the first try, and only hearing one soft cry in response. But any sound was good. It told her that Savannah was still breathing.

"You're doing _so_ good," Mara praised, connecting the girl's IV to a bag of saline and having the mother hold it up, to keep the fluid flowing at a steady rate. "Now, I'm going to put some more medicine in this tube here, but you won't feel any of it. Pretty cool, huh? Just try to keep breathing slowly, nice and slow." Mara withdrew Solumedrol into a syringe and injected it into the IV port. "Good, Savannah. That's very good…"

Mara was back to listening to Savannah's lungs through the stethoscope when the whole cavern gave pause. A distant, hollow sound could be heard.

"What was that?"

"It might be over!"

"Stay there."

The sound was getting louder. Mara removed the buds from her ears and strained to listen. It sounded almost like… a jackhammer?

"Maybe somebody's on the other side!"

_"Stay back, we're coming through!"_

The whole of the group had started to crowd near where they had been sealed off, and some of the men were quick to start helping herd people back a safe distance. The noise of the jackhammer was getting louder, until finally it gave purchase, and the head of Fire Chief Caroll popped through. "Let's get you people out of here," he declared. It seemed like the entire mine echoed with everyone's cheers. The nightmare was over. Or so it seemed.

Eric Green was the next to pop through. "Alright, everyone," he said, "you're gonna be okay."

His brother Jake was not too far behind.

"Alright," Jake called, "we have food and water. There are vehicles waiting for you guys to take you to the clinic, alright? Nice and slow, file out. These guys will help you. Listen, you're okay." His eyes were searching the crowd.

"Women and children first!"

"Carroll!" Mara hollered over the din, making her presence known from their little corner of the mine. She placed a soothing hand on Savannah's back. "I've got respiratory distress over here!"

Jake's eyes landed on her, seemingly satisfied with their search. There was something unreadable in them, and if Mara had the wherewithal, she might have considered what that was. "You okay?" He mouthed to her, as Carroll's crew came up with a stretcher and more medical supplies. Mara could merely give Jake a slow shake of her head as she briefed the rescue workers on the condition of the girl.

Because she wasn't okay. She, too, was coughing, her lungs thick with dust. She was dirty, and badly bruised from the fall to the ground she had taken to avoid the shockwave of the explosion. There was nothing _okay_ about the situation they were in. They had no information, no clue what came next. Emotional trauma was an understatement. Mara was still in grief, with no outlet to unleash it.

But they were alive. And Jake had come back.

She reminded herself of this fact several times over, as she crawled out with Savannah's mother, trailing behind the girl's stretcher. They would ride in the ambulance together to the clinic. The girl had first priority.

She didn't get the chance to see Scott being carried out by Gray and Shep, dead. But she wouldn't be very surprised in the long run.

* * *

After the right treatments were administered at the clinic, little Savannah was cleared to go home by the day's end. Mara was just signing off on her chart and preparing to grab another one when April appeared, tugging her sister aside and into the tightest of hugs. They hadn't been able to speak since Mara arrived with the mine group. "You're okay," April breathed against her. "You're okay?"

Mara stifled a cough. "I'm fine, Ape, really."

April pulled back, placing her sister at arm's length. "Wait a minute. No, you're not! Did you get checked out?"

"I don't need to."

"_Yes_, you do!" April was getting irritated. "You need to let me listen to your lungs. Sit down. _Sit down right now, Mara._"

Mara rolled her eyes and sat in an empty chair in the middle of the bustling hallway, while April produced a stethoscope and started listening to her lungs. Suddenly, she was the patient. And the good doctor didn't seem too pleased with what she was hearing. "Mara, you're wheezing," April pointed out. "Deep breath. Are you having any chest pain?"

Mara grimaced, partly because she was annoyed, but partly because she had in fact felt pain upon inhaling. "Yes."

April produced an ear thermometer and took her sister's temperature. It registered at 101.2. "You have a fever. I'm ordering a chest x-ray."

"April! Honestly, I'm fine!"

"You sound like you're developing pneumonia!" April shot back, "Probably from all that dust in the mine! I can't stand to have you get any sicker, we can't lose any staff. So just sit there and let me treat you."

"You can't waste the generator power on my stupid x-ray. Other people need it."

April crossed to stand in front of her sister, before crouching and giving her a displeased look. Her lips were pursed, and she was silent for a long moment. Finally, reluctantly, she said, "I'm giving you Azithromycin and Prednisone. I'm going to find you an Albuterol inhaler and Motrin for the fever. You're going to go take a hot shower, because you're filthy, and then you're going to take _all_ of it, is that understood?"

"And if I don't?"

"You really don't want to have that conversation. Shower, change, and take the meds. Then find me later, I need to talk to you."

"Okay, _Mom_," Mara called sarcastically after her sister, but April was already walking away. Mara stared grumpily after her for a moment before easing out of her chair with a wince of pain.

* * *

Mara ran into Jake on the street, on the way to Bailey's Tavern.

He was quick to pull her aside, around the corner of a brick building, away from prying ears and eyes. Mara hissed with the pain of unanticipated movement — even doped up with the medication April had forced on her, the bruises from her time in the mine still lingered, as did the chest pain from breathing. "_Watch it,_" Mara snapped, and Jake released her arm, raising his hands in a gesture of peace.

"What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing's wrong with me. April just thinks I have pneumonia."

Jake's expression found displeasure. "_Pneumonia_?"

"Dust pneumonia. It's a thing."

Jake looked about to speak the same spiel that her sister had forced on her in the clinic, so Mara was quick to interrupt. "I've already had meds forced down my throat, so please, Jake, just spare me."

He placed a hand to her forehead, earning a glare in response. "You're burning up. You need to go rest."

"That's smart, why didn't I think of that?"

Once more, Jake looked ready to sock her, and once more, Mara found herself wishing he'd do it. Instead, he simply sighed and changed the subject. "Did you hear about Mr. Rennie?"

"What?"

"He died."

Mara gave pause. She was expressionless, as if absorbing the new information, but she didn't seem as shocked as Jake expected her to be. He bowed his head closer to hers and asked, "What happened to 'I got it, Jake'?"

"You weren't down there. Other shit was happening."

"You were supposed to keep an eye out—"

"Me?" Mara snapped, her voice growing loud and venomous. She shoved Jake in the chest. "_You_ were supposed to make sure the whole _fucking_ mine didn't get blown out of commission. That vent system, that was _your_ responsibility. That was _your_ job." She shoved Jake again. "Don't talk to me about _'I got it.'_ I did the best I could with what I had. Where were _you_?"

Mara broke down into a coughing fit, a deep, croupy sounding cough that was painful just to witness, bending over with her hands on her knees as she tried to still it. Jake watched her, awed into silence. "I came back," he finally said, quietly.

"Lot of good that did, huh?" Mara wheezed. His hand flew out to touch her shoulder, and her reaction was violent, angrily brushing him off. "_Don't_ touch me."

"Mara, I—"

"And what's left out there, Jake? Huh? What are we doing here? We're cut off from the whole goddamn world. If they blew up Atlanta, and Denver, then D.C. is _gone_, and who knows? Probably every major financial and industrial center in this country! The nation is crippled, and we're here, _and there's nothing left_. So what are we doing here? Everything is gone—"

She was crying. This was something Jake wasn't prepared for. He didn't know how to handle this sight, fat tears trickling down her freckle-covered cheekbones, reddening her already pale skin. He wasn't prepared for the feeling it gave him, similar to before, watching her go into the mine. He reached out despite her wishes, placing two hands on her shoulders. They moved heavily with her coughing and upset, as she continued trying valiantly to calm herself.

"Mara," Jake said, gentle steady pressure urging her to straighten from her bent over posture. She looked up at him through a film of tears. "Breathe."

The word meant more in that moment than any single meaning.

"_Trust_ me," he said.

"Jake! Jake!"

A loud voice could be heard yelling down the main drag, panic in its tenor, interrupting any further discussion. The two jerked violently away from each other, Jake casting Mara one last look before emerging onto the street. It was Stanley. He was gasping, out of breath.

"They're getting a feed in the bar."


	4. Chapter 4

I just wanted to thank everyone who's reviewed. I'm really bad at responding, but know I read every single thing you send me. If you have story questions, please don't hesitate to ask. I'll do my best to get to it.

* * *

**CHAPTER 4**

**September 30, 2006**

_We can't just sit here in the dark._

Curled up on the couch in the living room of April and Eric's home, a petite form sweated and shivered as her body raged with fever. Her clothes were damp with sweat, even though three blankets didn't seem to be enough, and deep, painful coughs wracked her bones.

_Was that Korean? Does anybody know?_

Mara drifted in and out of consciousness, disturbed by fever dreams, indistinguishable from memory or reality or hallucination. Her unrest went unchecked in the empty house.

_The question is, were they just reporting it, or were they behind it?_

Air caught in her lungs, eliciting a sharp pain between her ribs.

_Maybe we're being invaded._

Deep, croupy coughs.

_Go home, Mara. You need to rest._

She shifted uncomfortably, brow twitching as a vision of her apartment in Amman crossed her fevered conscious. Behind sweaty eyelids, she could see the outline of a dim room, lit by moonlight. Four white, bare walls. Two broad, bare shoulders.

_Do you hate me?_

_I never did._

Full lips running over her cheekbones, tasting without really tasting, inhaling her scent.

_You smell like lavender._

_ . . ._

_ North, South, East and West._

_ . . ._

_ You can't go. It's too dangerous._

_ Since when do you care about me being in danger?_

_ . . ._

_Going out is more important than ever, alright? If this country is at war, we need to know it!_

. . .

_ Why did you leave?_

_ It was complicated. You know that._

_ You don't always have to disappear to remake yourself._

_ If I didn't disappear, would I have been here?_

Right there. Hovering over her, in the dim moonlight. Stealing taboo kisses.

. . .

_Go home, Mara!_

Home. Home. Home.

. . .

_Emily and I are taking the southern route. To Wichita._

Four horsemen danced in her head, to the music of distressed coughs and labored breathing. They disappeared in a cloud of smoke, and Mara came to suddenly, eyes wide and clear as she gasped for air. She sat up weakly, catching a glimpse of the sun setting through a window. She felt damp and clammy with sweat, but more coherent than she had been in hours. The Motrin was kicking in, and her fever was breaking. Maybe April had been right about those meds all along.

But clearheadedness did nothing to soothe the distress she felt in every nerve ending, down to the tips of her fingers and toes. Nothing felt right. He was out there.

Maybe he wouldn't come back.

* * *

After attempting to clean up with a cool shower and a change of clothes, Mara took some more medication, bundled up, and took a slow walk to the town center, where a huge barbecue was being set up for everyone in Jericho. Darkness had set in by the time she appeared.

Gail found her first, her forehead crumpled sympathetically as she enveloped Mara in a hug. "Hi sweetheart, are you feeling any better?"

Mara made no effort to step out of the woman's embrace. It was warm, and reminiscent of family. She wrapped her arms around Gail and hugged her back tightly. "I think my fever broke."

"That's good. Feel like eating?"

"Food would be great."

"I'll get you set up. You should sit down." Gail swept a hand over Mara's temple, tucking hair behind her ear. She seemed to notice something else was off, because she asked a little more gently, "Everything okay?"

Mara nodded silently, but Gail knew her too well.

"He'll be back."

And she was a little _too_ observant.

Gail smiled at Mara's blanched reaction, before pointing her in the direction of a table and chairs. "Sit. Your sister should be along soon."

As she sat, Mara surveyed the scene, trying to contain her deep coughs. It was oddly comforting; the sight of Jericho as a whole, coming together to prepare a meal. She knew these people, knew this kind of camaraderie. This was the kind of thing that had been so common in Jericho before the bombs. She wondered whether this would be the last time she would ever see it.

She found herself caught by surprise when she noticed Emily down the street. She hadn't gone with Jake. Mara couldn't decide whether she was relieved or not.

"Hey, there you are."

April appeared, changed into street clothes with her hair down. She slid into a seat across from Mara, and the two sisters eyed each other for a moment. "Mom said your fever broke."

"Seems that way," Mara wheezed. April furrowed her brow.

"So maybe I was right."

"You usually are."

April simpered, seemingly satisfied with her response.

"Where's Eric?"

"He's in the office at Town Hall. He's monitoring the radios. They lost contact with Shep fifty miles out, towards Denver."

"And Jake?"

April suddenly looked uncomfortable. "He's stopped responding." Mara started to speak, but April was quick to interrupt. "It's probably nothing."

With that assertion, Mara couldn't find the energy to incriminate herself any further, so she simply sank her shoulders down and rested her head on the table.

"I think Eric's been avoiding me," she said, effectively moving on from the subject.

"We… haven't been on the best of terms lately. Maybe he feels bad."

Mara looked up at her sister, concerned. April looked even more uncomfortable, maybe even nervous. This was a stark change from the day she had arrived, with lies of 'happy to see you' and cheerful faces. "What do you mean, lately?"

"For a long time now."

"That's not _lately_, April."

"I know!" April hung her head, so clearly trying to disguise how distraught she felt from any eavesdroppers. "I'm sorry. I kept trying to talk to you about it. But you were so busy in Amman. I didn't always get a phone call from you, and when I did, it was easier to talk about happier things. And then I thought, 'I'll just tell her when she gets here…' But then…"

Then the bombs went off.

Mara suddenly felt wildly guilty. It seemed both of them had something to hide.

"If I tell you something," April whispered. "You can't tell _anyone_."

But before she could say anything, a commotion was developing on the street. Both of their heads shot up in time to glimpse Jake striding down the street with a duffle bag, a purpose in his eyes. Mara felt a sudden, inexplicable rush of relief.

"He should be in Wichita by now," April said, baffled.

It didn't matter where he was supposed to be. He'd come back.

Again.

* * *

The only information it seemed they'd get that day was from the flight data recorder Jake had brought back. Ten thousand planes in the air with no air traffic control, a million people on board, pilots blind and losing fuel. An entire country evidently in chaos, the mysterious newscaster's map from earlier in the day elaborated on with visuals of mushroom clouds over Kansas City and somewhere in Texas. Government F-16s accentuating the tanks that Stanley had apparently seen during the fallout.

It seemed they were surrounded on all sides by crippled cities. Jericho was alone, and while it appeared there might be a federal response happening, there was still some speculation whether it was legit. Some still thought they were being invaded.

Mara wasn't sure what to believe.

The commotion of Jake's return had effectively distracted the sisters from their conversation, but it was one of many things weighing heavily on Mara's mind as she excused herself, leaving April and Eric to dine alone. Mara sat by herself at a table, her head in her hands, a half-empty plate before her. She'd hardly touched her food, despite how delicious the meal the town had cooked up was. Barbecue, burgers, corn, potatoes. She had no appetite.

He announced his presence by collapsing into the seat across from her, a piece of chocolate cake in his hands. He put it down next to her plate.

"I figured I'd better make up for the one I destroyed."

Mara was slow to respond, a reluctant smirk on her lips as she just barely lifted her head. She knew the reference. She remembered April's wedding well.

"I can't even finish a burger, what makes you think I could finish a piece of cake?"

"I thought nothing stopped you from eating cake."

Mara lifted her head further, giving Jake a patented look before inching the cake plate closer. She was just fiddling with the fork when he noted, "You look like you're feeling better."

"I'll live," she wheezed, forking a unenthusiastic bite of cake into her mouth.

His eyes on her were steady, unrelenting. She wished he'd leave it at this, and walk away. This was far too public for her comfort, sitting here. Not when she felt so discomfited from the tumultuous thought processes she'd gone through that day. But Jake wasn't leaving.

"You asked me once why I left," he said finally, gently. "You've never asked me why I came back."

"Please, enlighten me."

Jake paused. "When I saw the explosion… I panicked. I was all ready to leave. I had reasons to do so. But I saw that plume, and my first thought… was of Jericho. Despite all the shit I put everyone through, despite every effort I made to prove my father wrong, every failure and every time I proved him right… I thought of my family. This town." She wasn't looking at him, and he made an effort to catch her eyes. "You."

She said nothing.

He said, "I needed to know you were okay."

And then he got up and walked away, and Mara was left to watch his back, as she felt like she had done so many times before. Speechless, and no more assuaged than before.


End file.
